


The Pretty Librarian

by rowofstars



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Awkwardness, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lingerie, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Mr. Gold goes to the library to return a book and something unexpected happens.





	The Pretty Librarian

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this gorgeous manip by virgidearie](https://virgidearie.tumblr.com/post/174347752706/the-pretty-librarian-for-ripperblackstaff), and the December smut prompt at a-monthly-rumbelling: watching, bending, behind, lick, lingerie.  
> There is the most minor appearance of consent issues, in that it may not be clear to readers that Belle is just as into Gold as he is to her. I assure you that she is. I also assure you that I can be easily manipulated into writing more and making this as naughty as fuck...just saying. (But it's going to have to wait for 31 Days to be over...)

Mr. Gold pushed open the doors of the library and stepped inside, adjusting the book tucked under his arm. 

There appeared to be no one around, which wasn’t too strange given that it was after five o’clock, and his lips curved in a sly smile. Belle French, the librarian, was not at the circulation desk, but late in the day she was likely shelving books or doing paperwork in the office. 

She was a lovely woman with a fiery wit that matched his acerbic humor nicely. They had started out with a very strained and antagonistic relationship, but in the year since she’d taken on the job of librarian, things had mellowed considerably between them. He might even go so far as to say he liked her, quite well in fact, though he’d certainly never expressed as much. That she occupied far too many of his thoughts and had begun invading his dreams at night, leaving him to wake with a burning ache in his chest and a throbbing, hard cock, was not something he’d ever admit to, no matter how true it was. She was too good for him, and for this town, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take every opportunity to be in her presence.

There was a noise at the back of the library, and he frowned as he strode forward. “Miss French?” he called out, peering down one of the aisles.

There was a high pitched noise and then a light thud coming from his left, so he hurried over another two rows, and then saw her. “Are you alright?”

Belle grabbed the edge of the shelf in front of her and clung to it as the ladder she was on wobbled. She turned towards Gold and gave him a tense smile. “I’m fine.”

His head tilted and his eyebrows lifted. “Obviously.” 

Her perch shifted unsteadily and she let out a light squeak of surprise. He closed the distance to her, pausing to set down his book and lean his cane against the shelving before he took hold of the ladder on either side of her legs. Now that he was closer, it became apparent what the problem was; the latch that locked the cross brace on the ladder wasn’t holding.

Gold fiddled with it for a few seconds, before giving up. “It’s broken.”

He looked up at her, and she returned his earlier look, her head tilted to the side and one eyebrow arched. “ _Obviously_.”

The corner of his mouth started to curve as he realized she was at the perfect height for him to get a glimpse of her knickers. She must have noticed as well because she cleared her throat sharply. His gaze traveled up her body to her face which was flushed a faint pink that matched her lipstick and the color of her panties. There were plenty of other pink parts to her as well that he’d like to compare.

“I, um, need to get down now,” she said.

He snapped out of his lewd thoughts with a quick shake of his head and then stepped to the side, still holding one side of the ladder. “Of course. My apologies, Miss French.”

She smiled and started to climb down slowly, stepping carefully in her tall heels. They were a pale pink too, and he blinked as if in a daze as a light shiver rippled over his body. He needed to get back outside, to cross the street to his shop and lock the door where he would be safe to explore his baser thoughts, and where Belle French would be safe from Storybrooke’s beastly landlord.

“Oh!”

Her breathy cry, brought his attention back once more, and his eyes went wide. She was halfway the ladder, but her skirt was almost up around her waist. The hem had caught on the pin through the broken cross brace causing it to lift up as she climbed down. Her perfectly curved backside, covered in soft pink silk, was exposed. His eyes trailed along her skin, all the way to the tops of her stockings done in a lacy rose pattern with a seam down the back to her heels.

Gold stepped behind her, holding her gaze as he moved. She let out a small noise, like a little whimper, that was music to his ears.

“Allow me,” he said, reaching up to free her skirt from the offending metal pin.

His eyes fixed on her shapely arse and thighs as his heart thumped against his ribs. He’d heard she’d been a dancer at one time, and it showed in the fitness and strength of her lithe body, if not in the lack of grace with which she sometimes moved in her precariously high heels. His tongue pushed at his lower lip, his mouth opening slightly as his mind swirled with thoughts. 

His head between her legs, soaking her pretty pink knickers with a combination of her arousal and his saliva, peeling them off of her to taste her sweet pussy. Imagining the sounds she would make, the whimpers and pleas and screams, made his balls ache. He would do it again and again, licking her to a frenzy and pressing his fingers deep until she begged for respite, or begged him to fuck her.

“Mr. Gold,” she said softly, and he blinked again, eyes darting to her face.

He could feel his cheeks heat both from his thoughts and embarrassment at being caught ogling her so openly. Carefully, he eased her skirt down, making sure the nothing else snagged, and then took up his cane as he stepped out of her way.

Belle’s heels clicked as she came down to the floor again, her hand still gripping one side of the ladder like she needed it to keep her standing. He watched her face for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say, trapped in a perpetual moment that felt as if it could become something more.

She swallowed and then gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded curtly, feeling the tension of the situation finally recede, replaced with the hard, cold feeling of guilt. “No matter.”

Just then, she noticed the book he’d brought in with him, on the floor where he’d set it against the shelf. She turned her backside towards him as she bent to pick it up, and he closed his eyes, fighting the lewd images that kept pushing to the front of his mind. Her hand ran over the front cover, brushing away non-existent dust as she straightened.

“Were you returning this?” she asked.

Gold nodded again, wondering if she was about to hit him with the rather sizable book. It was the least he deserved. “Yes, I was just going to leave it at the front desk, but, uh, then I heard you and - well…”

“Yes,” she replied quietly, shifting from one foot to the other as she glanced down at the book. When she looked up again she was smiling, though it did not reach her eyes. “I can take care of it for you. Was there something else you wanted to check out?”

He felt startled by her sudden change in demeanor, as if she intended to completely ignore what had transpired between them. “N-no,” he managed. “Thank you, Miss French.”

There was another awkward pause, before he turned to leave. When he got to the end of the row, he heard her call out, “Have a good evening, Mr. Gold.” But he did not turn around.

Outside, Gold stepped into the street without regard for traffic or other pedestrians, striding quickly towards the door of his pawn shop as if the devil was at his heels. His heart was still pounding, both from the speed at which he was walking and from the image of Belle French’s lovely knickers and pert backside. The image was burned into his mind, making him feel too warm from head to toe.

He shut the door of the shop behind him, flipping the deadbolt and closing the blinds, before heading to the comforting solitude of his workroom. In seconds he had a glass of scotch in his hand, and he took a large, hasty gulp of it, wincing at the burn that traveled down his throat. Unable to help himself, he walked back into the front of the shop and watched out the window, peering through the slits in the blinds. His hand tightened into a fist around the handle of his cane, digging the swirls of brass into his palm. The pain focused his mind and kept him from marching back across the street and doing worse than he had already done.

He finished the rest of the scotch and went back for more. Tomorrow, he would go back to the library and apologize, and offer Miss French whatever she wanted to make up for his terrible behavior, including a year of free rent if she demanded it.

But tonight was for drinking away his sins.


End file.
